


Inamabilis

by lokkatattur



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Mythology, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Psychological Drama, ish, verbosity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokkatattur/pseuds/lokkatattur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It could not have been love, of this Loki was entirely certain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inamabilis

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to find me on tumblr where I cry about this pairing under the username lokkatattur. Enjoy~

 

    “ _Fuck,_ ” the human groaned as Loki’s hands slid unhurried beneath his garments. “You’re a goddamn tease, you, _ahh_ , you know that?” Loki’s amusement hummed its way along the inventor’s throat as his mouth crept from its place beneath whiskered jawline to the now intimately familiar patch of skin just above his collarbone. “ _Ohhfuckyesthere,”_ Loki hummed again, and then sighed in pleasure as the human’s nails tore themselves across his back, pulling him closer. Always, _closer._  

     “ _Please,_ ” he whispered, truth spilling from his lips like oil; dark, and dangerous, but spilling all the same. And yet, in another time, perhaps not so long ago, Loki might have set himself afire over such a _public_ loss of composure, such a filthy, honest slip of tongue. Another time, but no longer. 

     As it was, the mad god simply wondered quietly at the pulsing tremor that crept along his spine as the human’s mouth met with his, the pressure he could feel building softly within his chest. When they broke apart, Loki began to tease his lips lightly across exposed collarbones, his tongue reaching the tilt in the human’s chest and encircling his metal heart.

 

It could not have been love, surely. Of this he was entirely certain. 

Loki had, after centuries of toilsome, exasperating, and increasingly perverse attempts at composing meaningful interpersonal relations, come to the realization that while capable of an incredibly, perhaps _painfully_ extensive depth of feeling, he was rather too distractible, and _far_ too selfish for such a thing as love. And, for many centuries he had been quite content with that.

    But now Loki found himself wanting. _Oh_ , did he want.

     Here beneath him lay a man hailed for a hero by so many hundreds of his kind; a cracked man held prisoner by his own shadow. And Loki wanted to break him. To bury himself deep into those cracks he could see until perforations formed beneath his dirty, prying fingertips. He yearned to fully seat himself inside this mortal man’s box of troubles and drown, for once, in horrors that were not his own. To break, to deconstruct, and through it, to _know._ To finally discover the reason behind that startling, _aching_ brightness in the humans eyes.

     Because thoughts like ‘ _warm’_ and ‘ _mine’_ had come to rest in the mind of the god of lies, and the words took root and tore deeper into his psyche with every aching scrape of Anthony Stark’s nails across his back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I didn't really edit this harshly, and the end is sortof something I just rambled together to fit with the begining. 
> 
> I would GREATLY appreciate any thoughts/critiques/comments. Don't be shy~


End file.
